


A Book's Cover

by TheKrystalSakura



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Car Accident TW, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Slow Build, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7640641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKrystalSakura/pseuds/TheKrystalSakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rival bookstore owners Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens have been at each other's throats for the six months they've known each other. However, a near-fatal accident might be just the push they need to begin a new type of relationship.</p><p>Hamilton Rival Shops AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Book's Cover

John Laurens smirks as he places a large “25% OFF” sign in the front window of his shop. His business is quiet and peaceful, which was good for a bookstore. He’s already had at least two dozen customers today, and with the new sale that he’d prepared for, he hopes to draw in more from the rival bookstore across the street. He looks out to said business, named “The Author’s Attic,” and manages to catch the eyes of the store’s owner, Alex. Confident, John sticks his tongue out at him with a sneer.

He saw Alex’s face go red and his brows furrow, obviously annoyed. He glances around, presumably to see if anyone was around, before he raises his middle finger at John. The latter just snickers and turns back to his work. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alex turn around as well.

Two days later, Alex hung a “30% OFF” poster in his front window.

John scowls at the act, borderline seething. He clenches his fists and turn to Hercules, his assistant. “Herc, can you man the store for me?” he manages calmly.

“Sure thing, man. Just don’t get in a fist-fight.”

“No guarantees,” he mutters, heading across the street. He opens the door roughly, scowling at the man behind the counter. “Hey, we need to have _words_.”

“Such as?” Alex says with a smirk.

“Your _sign,_ first of all.”

“What about it?”

“Are you really going to be so _petty_ and _childish_ that you’re going to keep it up?”

“Yyyep. Though I wouldn’t call it ‘petty and childish’; I’d call it a business decision.”

“ _I_ call it you being a jackass.” When he’s met with a shrug, he growls out, “You know, some of us need to make a fucking _living_.”

“Okay? You can manage with what limited customers you’ll get.”

“I need more than five customers a day, asshole!”

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

“ _Hamilton,_ ” he snarls, voice low, “I have a _child_ . I need to pay the hospital _and_ bills, keep food on the table, and keep my fucking business afloat. If you could take your sign down, it’d be _much appreciated._ ”

Alex gives a noncommittal hum in return, glancing back down to the papers on his desk and not paying much attention to the man in front of him.

“... You’re a heartless dick,” Laurens mutters, backing off and leaving the store.

 

It’s later in the week, around nine o’clock at night. John is locking up his shop, his cell phone placed to his ear as he speaks in hushed tones. He glances across the street where he sees Alex also locking his shop. The former does little more than scowl at him as he continues his conversation. He waits for the crosswalk light to turn green before he steps into the road, heading to the parking garage a block away. He doesn’t notice the truck barrelling down the road, headlights dim and the driver paying little attention to their surroundings.

Alex, however, notices the vehicle and his eyes widen. He glances over to John and races toward him, calling out his name. Just as John turns to look at him, Alex pushes him out of the truck’s path, the latter getting thrown over the top on-impact. The driver doesn’t stop as Alex lands harshly on his side.

John falls back, stunned by the action until realization floods him. He sits up quickly and stares at the scene before him: Alexander Hamilton just saved his life. The other man was sprawled out on the ground, groaning and likely in incredible pain. John stands and grabs his phone, previous call discarded as he hurries over to the other shopkeeper. “Alexander?!” he cries, kneeling by him. He gently rolls Alex onto his back, the other emitting a gasp of pain, and holds his upper body close to his chest. “Alexander…!”

The shorter man groans and coughs up a bit of blood. He looks up to John, confusion on his face. “Lau… rens…?” he whispers, voice hoarse and breathing labored.

At the other man’s words, the curly-haired man panics a bit, fumbling with his phone as he dials 911. “D-Don’t worry, Alex, help i-i-is coming!”

“John…” Alexander breathes out shakily.

“E-Easy, just… J-Just keep breathing- Keep your eyes on me.”

The other man chuckles darkly before coughing up a few more droplets of blood. “It must be nice… Seeing me like this…” he groans out, clutching the side he’d landed on.

“Shut the fuck up!” John cries. “If you die on me, I swear to God…”

Alexander smiles sadly and closes his eyes as the ambulance arrives. The last word he hears before falling unconscious is John calling his name.


End file.
